i find myself hiding my work from everyone including me
even when i’m the only one to see it
it still feels like a crowd of unwanted strangers staring at my soul
i find myself hiding my work from everyone including me
even when i’m the only one to see it
it still feels like a crowd of unwanted strangers staring at my soul
an unnoticed, precious soul
overlooked and lodged in distant desert sands …
how lucky i am to have lost my say on roads to … unreachable glory
and to have found
myself, you.
us both.
within —
lives all aspects of the beauty,
contentment,
will,
resilience,
awe,
honor,
integrity,
respect,
validation,
righteousness,
serenity,
resolve,
holiness,
wholeness,
abundance,
peace,
accomplishment,
health,
power,
and love,
that i was once fooled into thinking,
lived without.
may i never be fooled again.
.
.
.
hours spent pursuing a version of a hidden self that used to scare me.
one that embodies my pains and my joys.
undiscovered, and bubbling from the rocky soil of a soul that still manages to be fertile at high altitudes and extremely high temperatures.
your light looks like lava.
and so does mine.
red tinted photons light my bedroom and it pleases me.
it reminds me of fires that we’ve learned to avoid from experience.
touched stoves become teaching grounds for optimistic toddlers who need swift lessons in life if they are to survive.
and become greater than the limits and constraints that the world looks so eagerly forward to placing on them.
don’t accept them.
from journeying across the Savannas, land bridges, Nile rivers and middle passages, searching for homes that were never meant to be constructed of wood, stone, earth, water or air…
…all that’s left for us is the blazing, beautiful, purging, fire.
i’ve never
understood why
my dreams
are so colorful
when i fall asleep,
the palettes always
look more vivid than
the ones in the real world
assuming it’s a world…
that’s real,
and not scrambled computer code
in a simulation that we’ll make one day
…and forget about
a game of definitions, honestly
at this point,
i think i’m okay with that
being told what something is,
or should be,
[including myself]
by people who barely know me,
but by some advanced and divine revelation,
know what’s best for me,
and who i need to become…
…as if i’ve never heard the God in me on my own.
i suppose everything comes full circle.
and “i love you” gets encoded, scrambled and mistranslated along the way.
i pi you too.
it feels like,
sea voyages,
and islands visible from afar,
backward flowing currents pulling me away,
slowly enough to not lose sight of the palm trees and soft sand,
but fast enough to turn my paddling into place holding with no propulsion,
churning,
churning,
still here.
closeness never felt so far.
sight never felt so blind.
and letting this current pull me further from you is the most addictive pain.
what would happen if i let go?
would you notice?
i wonder.
i was never too keen on swimming
it wasn’t as secure as walking
and far less common in the city i grew up in
where the way you walked could easily define you
the ground
i was used to
it was familiar
but i watched and wondered from many pool sides
to be fair
i admired the arms and legs
slicing through blue liquid
propelling cookie and cream bodies
that seemed to be so fearless
brave
unconcerned with the possibility of
sinking
unlike me
so i watched
in fear and in longing
i only watched
it’s funny
i get the same feeling when i think of you
the same fear
the same longing
but,
i’ve never been too keen on swimming
how about you?
i need to get back to writing
but the termites of disappointment
have eaten so many of my pencils
.
.
.
i must see how many number nines
God has hidden in this cloudy mind of mine
.
.
.
i need
to get back to writing
somehow?
~~~
because
i still dream vividly
when the clouds break at night
~~~
every
single
night
and i’m moved
We are eternities; muses.
We are eternity’s muses.
.
Inspired by: @alexandrajoli_